He is Home

I felt him awaken just as the sun was rising.  It was early.

He leaned over and kissed my cheek.  The sheets crumpled and twisted between us.  

"Good morning honey."

"Mm-hm." My eyes remained shut, my limbs heavy from sleep.

He pulled on his sweatshirt as he always does before he proceeds down the stairs to the kitchen.

I was alone and awake. Still so tired.

I could hear the crinkling sound of plastic as he emptied the garbage.

The running of water and clinking of dishes being emptied from the dishwasher.

The birds chirped pleasantly in the tree just outside our bedroom window.

The cool morning breeze flapped the blinds on our window and I turned over to my other side, pulling the covers over my bare shoulders, burrowing deeper beneath my duvet.

 My face feeling the chill, my body warm.

I could smell the delicious, pungent aroma of coffee brewing.

And I drifted.

Awoken again to the sound of my 2 year old's chatter-babble and abrupt giggles from large Daddy handed tickles on little boy bellies.

An out of the blue question from my eldest to his father, "Daddy can I come to work with you tomorrow?"  And the feeling of sweet relief from my husband's baritone-tender reply, "I'm not going to work tomorrow Aidy.  Daddy's staying home again with you."

The morning sunlight peered cheerful through the crack in the blinds and fell wonderfully optimistic through the open door of our bedroom, spilling yellow onto our beige carpet.

The scent of coffee heavy, rich and close, I peeked open my eyes to find my large black mug emblazoned white with 'The Boss' filled to the brim and now cool on my nightstand.

I stretched beneath the blankets and savoured the feeling of no urgency or must do's.

The birds sang peacefully, the sound of my boys playing happy and loud.

My husband's voice clear and loving, "Okay guys, how about we go downstairs now...we don't want to wake up Mummy."

My smile sleepy and serene.

It was a perfect start to the day.

He was home.